


plays many parts

by bottomlinsons



Series: merely players [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Engagement, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 15:52:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19403527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottomlinsons/pseuds/bottomlinsons
Summary: Harry is staring at him, gaping, because—Well, because Louis’ just gone and bloody proposed.(part two)





	plays many parts

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for your kind words about part one!

⬝

There’s a chance Harry’s eyes are gonna bug clean out of his skull.

Louis would be concerned for him, but. 

Holy, fuck. 

He just asked — 

“Uh,” Louis says. 

Harry has never looked so shocked in his life, at least not that Louis’ ever seen. His jaw is hanging open and his chest doesn't seem to be moving at all. It’d be funny if this was one of Louis’ classic pranks — like the time he'd dyed a streak of Harry’s hair blonde, or when he filled Harry’s car with helium balloons — but it's not. Harry is staring at him, gaping, because — 

Well, because Louis’ just gone and bloody proposed. 

“Uh, Harry?” Jonathan nudges Harry with his shoulder, his head peeking around from Harry’s side. It's a quick and hasty reminder that they're in a _room full of people. A room full of people who have ears._

“Right.” Harry startles as well, maybe from the touch, maybe just hearing his name. “Yes. Sorry.” 

Jonathan smiles brightly. Around them, the other people who were standing near turn gleeful faces their way. 

“ _Yes,_ yes?” A girl asks. Louis doesn't know her, but she catches his eye and shoots him an encouraging look. “He said yes!” 

The entire room whoops. 

Harry and Louis just keep staring at each other. Louis doesn't know how to move, think, breathe. All he knows how to do is watch Harry’s dumbfounded face and wonder what _the fuck have I done?_

⬝

It’s bizarrely easy to avoid Harry for the rest of the party. Their guests seem more than happy to speak to them one at a time, offering their congratulations. No one questions the distance that Louis keeps. It probably seems as if he and Harry have split up to network, to ensure everyone is taken care of, rather than anything else. 

Of course, it can’t last. 

Jonathan is one of the last ones to go. He wraps Harry in a tight hug, one so warm that Louis has to look at his shoes. He can still hear it when Jonathan says, “I’m so happy for you. Congratulations.” 

It’s not a good sign for Harry’s ultimate plan, Louis thinks. He’s not sure if Harry’s noticed though. For about two hours now, he’s moved through the flat as if running on autopilot. He’s been smiling, as charming as ever, but Louis can tell that there’s nothing behind it. His thoughts are with Louis and with the curveball Louis’ just thrown straight at him. 

After Jonathan leaves, there are two or three more people to say goodbye to. Louis herds them to the door, stalling as long as he can. Behind him, Harry settles on the bottom step of the stairs. 

Louis shuts the door, the lock clicking into place. He bites down hard on his bottom lip, forcing himself not to say anything until Harry has. 

It doesn’t take long. 

“Um, okay,” Harry says from the stairs. When Louis lifts his gaze up, Harry is pushing a hand through his hair. He’s not looking back at Louis. His gaze seems caught on something on the floor. “Um.”

Louis can’t help it. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. 

“Right.” Harry clears his throat. “Yeah. Um, thank you.” 

He doesn’t look any less lost. He just stares at the floorboards, his fingers twisting around each other, his throat bobbing as he swallows. 

It’s instinct for Louis to try and fix it. He just doesn’t know how. 

“What can I do?” 

For the first time in hours, Harry’s gaze flicks up and catches Louis’ eye. It’s a fleeting look, one that darts away almost immediately, but it’s enough for Louis to notice the redness staining Harry’s cheeks. 

Harry shakes his head as if dazed. “Um,” he starts again. “Can you explain?” As soon as the question is out, Harry rushes to justify it. “I mean, I’m sure you have a good reason for — it’s just a bit — I can’t figure it out?” 

Louis feels so winded by that he has to lean back against the door. He did this, he reminds himself. He put that look on Harry’s face. 

His only hope of fixing it is to explain why he did it, but where does that leave them? I’m in love with you, he could say. I’ve been in love with you for months now, and I don’t know what to do with that. 

How could he say that to Harry now? They had a plan, a plan for Harry and Jonathan that they’d worked on for months. He knew how much this meant to Harry and he’d completely disregarded it. On an impulse. 

The only thing he’s proved tonight is that he cares more about himself than he does for Harry. That’s not something to be proud of. 

But it is something he might be able to fix. The plan isn’t completely lost, after all. 

“Um,” the lie comes to life as it falls from Louis’ lips. “I thought if, if I was the one to break up with you then it wouldn’t be as realistic? Like, he’d think that I broke your heart or something?” He curls his hands into fists and focuses on the sting of his nails against his palm. “If you break up with me, then, um. Well, then Jonathan will know you’re ready for something new.” 

Harry blinks. It’s slow; Louis can see that he’s still catching up. “Jonathan?” 

“Yeah.” 

Harry takes a deep breath, one so big that his shoulders move with it. He looks at Louis again, but this time his gaze doesn’t flicker away when it meets Louis’. “Right, but. You proposed?” 

It’s silly, but when Harry says it out loud Louis flinches. “I did.” 

Harry rubs his palms together. It’s a comfort thing, Louis knows, but he’s never seen Harry do it because of him. “How does that, uh.” He pauses to swallow. “Help?” 

Louis forces himself to shrug. That’s nonchalant, isn’t it? “Well, you know. I figured we needed to raise the stakes or something.” 

Harry looks back down at his hands. For a moment, Louis just watches as Harry starts picking at the cuticle of one of his nails. The Harry begins to nod, a small movement at first that slowly grows more steady. “Okay. That makes sense, I guess.” 

It’s not enough. Louis hasn’t given him enough. 

“It only occurred to me last minute,” Louis says hastily. If Harry doesn’t buy this story then Louis doesn’t know what he’ll do. “I was improvising.” 

Harry is still nodding. “No, I get it,” he says. “I just, um. I wish you’d talked to me? Before?” 

His voice is quiet, but it punches through Louis’ chest like a scream. 

There’s nothing else to say but, “I’m really sorry.” 

It’s then that Harry pushes himself to his feet. It’s another jerky movement, stiff and static. “No, I know,” he says, rushed. “Thank you.” 

Louis braves a smile. “I’ll definitely check with you before I propose next time.” 

It’s not the right move. He watches Harry flinch and immediately knows it was the wrong thing to say. “Do you want me to go?” 

Harry glances up at him, head bowed, and Louis knows the answer before Harry actually says it. “Um. Yeah, if that’s okay?” Trust Harry to check if Louis’ okay with being asked to leave. Louis might laugh if he didn’t feel like his chest had been hollowed out. “I think I just need to think, just for a little while.” 

Louis goes to take another step back, but he’s already leaning up against the door. There’s nowhere left to go but away. “Right, yeah. No worries.” 

Harry makes an aborted move. “I’m sorry.” 

Louis shakes his head. “Don’t — ” he almost speaks over Harry’s apology. “Don’t say sorry. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” 

“You’re good to get home?” Harry checks. 

Louis nods. His things are upstairs, but he’ll come back and get them another time. His phone and keys are in his pockets. That’s technically everything he needs. “Yeah, I’ll Uber.” 

Harry doesn’t quite smile, but his face does soften a little. He looks rueful, apologetic even though Louis’ told him not to be. “Text me when you get home?” 

He says that whenever Louis needs to make his way home. It’s familiar, and it eases some of the tension singing through Louis’ blood. He nods. “Okay.”

Harry only walks near so that he can close the door when Louis steps through it. 

“I’ll message you, okay?” he says, catching Louis wrist before Louis walks aware. “When I’m—” even he doesn’t seem to know where he’s going with that. “I’ll just message.” 

For now, that’s all Louis can hope for. 

⬝

**Author's Note:**

> i'd love to hear your thoughts!! please leave them below ily and reblog the [fic post](https://bottomlinsons.tumblr.com/post/185926827282) if you have a mo x


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